Is It O’Malley’s Last Out or First Down?

As far as many Latinos are concerned, the possible sale of the Dodgers baseball team is just the latest twist in the Battle of Palo Verde.

That is what Latino activists call the final expulsion, in 1959, of the 20 or so homeowners who still lived in Chavez Ravine before the last homes there were razed to make way for Dodger Stadium.

Once, a thousand families lived there, in a barrio called Palo Verde. By 1958, most had been forced out by the city, which planned to build public housing in the area. But when the Dodgers arrived from Brooklyn that year, drawn with a promise that city officials would cooperate with Walter O’Malley’s dream of building his team a new baseball stadium, those plans changed.

Impressed with Chavez Ravine’s access to the freeways that converge downtown, O’Malley asked for the 300-plus acres of property. In exchange he offered an old minor league stadium and its nine acres, which he had bought as a possible temporary home for his team.

The exchange was made, but not without controversy. It passed as a citywide ballot measure by only 25,785 votes. Shortly afterward the Chavez Ravine holdouts were forcibly removed--some dragged kicking and screaming from their houses by sheriff’s deputies as the bulldozers moved in.

While many other barrio residents were displaced by urban renewal in the 1950s, the Battle of Palo Verde took on a special symbolism. Perhaps it was because the rest of Los Angeles--even many Latinos-- embraced the Dodgers and the leap to major league status they respresented for the city. Whatever the reason, genuine bitterness lingers among those who remember Palo Verde.

You heard it last Monday, when Peter O’Malley announced that the Dodgers are for sale. Former Chavez Ravine residents tracked down by a Times reporter spoke of never having gone to a Dodger game, and of sad memories of “deceit and lies and trauma.” Those strong words were uttered by the Rev. Juan Santillan, who grew up in Palo Verde and is now pastor of a Catholic parish in nearby Lincoln Heights.

When I began researching this column, I thought it might be time to bury memories of Palo Verde. For the financial challenges O’Malley now faces can be traced at least partly to his father’s land deal. And isn’t there at least some measure of satisfaction in that for the former residents of Palo Verde?

Walter O’Malley got a real bargain in 1959 when he acquired all that prime real estate overlooking downtown. But his son found some downsides to the deal by the 1990s. They first became evident when he expressed an interest in building a football stadium on his property to attract a new National Football League franchise to Los Angeles. Dodger Stadium’s neighbors reacted with such hostility that O’Malley was quickly forced to back down. More than a few Angelenos were surprised to learn that the Dodgers and their popular, soft-spoken owner were considered something less than good neighbors by folks in Elysian Park and Echo Park.

O’Malley’s NFL flirtation also confirmed a problem that some observers had begun to suspect: Dodger Stadium, completed in 1962, is outdated. Not architecturally, to be sure, but by the financial standards of modern pro sports. It will be difficult for the Dodgers to compete with other teams for high-priced players without the added revenue produced by luxury boxes and the other amenities new stadiums offer.

Many of those new baseball parks, like Baltimore’s Camden Yards, were built with public funds. But since O’Malley owns his own stadium and the land it sits on, he can’t ask taxpayers to pay for renovations. And paying for a stadium upgrade privately is harder than it seems at first glance.

It was little noted amid the hoopla when O’Malley expressed interest in an NFL franchise, but some financial experts warned that he might not be able to afford it. With most of his wealth tied up in the Dodgers and their properties, analysts questioned whether O’Malley could leverage a deal that might cost more than $500 million without the help of partners with very deep pockets.

I think those skeptics were right. Which is why I’ve also come to the conclusion that it is still too early to forget the Battle of Palo Verde.

For I am just skeptical enough to now wonder if O’Malley’s dramatic for-sale announcement wasn’t a ploy.

After all, O’Malley could have found out what his team and real estate are worth, and could even have approached possible buyers, before making any announcement. But by going public so suddenly, O’Malley stirred up civic concern that the Dodgers will change for the worse, or maybe even leave town. And that could give him leverage to pressure the community activists and elected officials who opposed his football expansion plans to back down.

I could be wrong, of course. O’Malley may truly want out, as he said, because the legal and financial complexities of modern pro sports are just too daunting for a family-owned business.

But for now I’m keeping Father Santillan’s words in mind. Not just as sad memories, but as words of warning.